” The tired woman sat still for a moment. A siphon and a whisky bottle stood before him. Deep verandas ran around the bungalows, with bamboo drops which were always down in the daytime, fending off the treacherous sunshine. And in the Avenue she had an encounter with Ramage. They’ll know. I don’t know. “It is like old times,” she said, “to hear these home truths. I walked London till the soles of my shoes were worn through, and my toes were blistered.
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